A simple commoner
by The Baleful Child
Summary: Count Adamar is besoughted with a young urchin girl whom he at first only abuses, but soon learns to love.
1. Default Chapter

*Warnings: this story does contain some brutality and sexual content however I promise the Adamar will make it up to you. Adamar and his servants belong strictly to the makers of A Knight's Tale. I am only using them to create something I wish would have happened.*   
  
Prologue  
Adamar almost let himself wince with a fresh jolt of soreness but quickly bit back the urge, knowing that his servants thought him impervious to pain, and he would not let that illusion be shattered like it had been that morning.   
New waves of revulsion and hatred swept through his heart. Oh how he loathed that- that- Thatcher. Beaten by a commoner. Had his father still been alive Adamar was quite certain that he would have suffered a beating that would make his injuries he had sustained in the joust seem mild. It was all so humiliating it was beginning to make his head spin with surrealism. How was it possible? In what world could Thatcher have ever beaten him?   
He grit his teeth and trudged on, degradingly and for the first time, without his horse. The question still pressed at him as though some savage animal were attacking the back of his neck. How? If his servants had thought him obdurate in the face of pain, then surely he had thought himself so in the face of defeat. He had never been proved wrong… never lost. Even after he had played the game so that fate would favor him, it had not. He swept a dirty hand through the thick, black curls that hung in his eyes and balled the other fist tightly.   
The anger was almost too much. Never had he been so ashamed. He had always been proud of his honor, and it had been taken away as though he were some commoner like that boy, William Thatcher. That name would haunt his mind for many years to come, he was sure. He would never have a restful moment knowing that a simpleton had bested him.   
  
He finally grew too enraged by his thoughts and veered off the dusty path and began stalked off toward a grove of trees.   
  
"My Lord?" his servant called speculatively.   
  
"Go on, Donal, I'm walking alone," Adamar shouted over a broad shoulder.   
  
Donal went ahead obediently, knowing never to test his master's patience, particularly in this instance. He had never seen the Count so angry. Then again, he had never seen him lose either…  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Adamar walked briskly, despite the terrible pain that was born in his side and traveled through the rest of his aching body. He would have to suffer the embarrassment of seeing a physician as well as losing. He suddenly pulled back and slammed a hard fist into the trunk of a tree. He barely felt the pain of the skin coming loose of his knuckles over the pleasure he drew from causing some sort of destruction. He was lucky to not have broken a few fingers, but he was weary of luck. It had left him when he needed it the most. Perhaps that was not what upset him, perhaps it was that he had needed luck at all.   
He inspected his hand, watching the decimated skin turn a livid red. A sudden noise broke the silence of the wood and he looked up just in time to see a blurry form come hurtling at him at a tremendous speed. He managed to get his arms up to catch the frightened creature, but not to protect his wounded body. His teeth clamped shut on his tongue to avoid letting out a cry of indignant rage and hurt. He managed a small hiss of breath being sucked through his gritted teeth.   
Swiftly tossing the small body away from him, he looked it over to find it was a young woman. She looked like she was fourteen, but could have been older. Starvation and her over sized rags withheld her true age. Her auburn hair was matted and unruly. Her eyes were a vivid green, almost like his, but for the fear in them. Presently they were widened in anxiety at having run into someone. She hastily glanced back the way she had come from and Adamar realized she was being chased. Her chest heaved violently, she had been running for some time.   
She parted her trembling lips and a hushed whisper slipped out, "Please, help me," she begged desperately.   
  
A sneer replaced the astonished annoyance on Adamar's swarthy face. He glanced about and spotted what he had begun to suspect. She was being followed by law men. The girl was a thief. A bad one, to get caught, at that. Her sniveling almost disgusted him in the state he had put himself into. He felt like back handing her on the spot. Eyeing a smudgy patch of skin that was visible beneath her robe, he reconsidered and decided he would like to back hand her, force her to bathe, and then have a bit of fun with her. This was the only acknowledgement he made of the fact that she was female. Otherwise, his treatment of her would not reflect the simple fact. He was barely civil to the girls of his own class, why should he be anything but brutal and nasty to a vagrant and an outlaw?   
  
A strong arm shot out, clutching her bony arm and he was almost pleased to hear her cry of dismay.  
  
"Caught myself a thief, have I? Tell me, what's the going rate for a reward on a bony little thief like you?" he demanded callously. "God must've decided your punishment should be more strict than the other thieves,' otherwise he'd not have placed you into my hands, urchin."   
  
"Please! Please don't turn me in!" she cried breathlessly, tears now springing from those emerald eyes.   
  
Adamar witnessed her struggle to free herself so she could take flight once again with a mixture of antipathy and exasperation. Rather pathetic and ultimately hopeless. She would be caught sooner or later. Her fate must have been as cloudy as his to have come across him in this mood.   
  
"I don't plan to turn you in, girl. Only, know this… you'd have been better off in the stocks than in my clutches," he murmured icily as the sheriff came to a halt a few feet away and dismounted authoritatively.   
  
He felt her go tense in his grip.   
  
"I'm grateful for your help, Sir. We've been chasing her since Thornbrough," the Sheriff puffed.   
  
Adamar kept his grip on the girl firm when he answered.   
  
"Thornbrough? That's a long way to run. A fast one, is she?" he inquired indifferently.  
  
"And a slippery thief," the Sheriff confirmed with a nod. "I'll take her back to town now…" he began, reaching for the poor girl's other arm.   
  
Adamar jerked her away tersely.   
  
"What is her debt?" he inquired, his voice still toneless.   
  
"Begging your pardon, Sir?"   
  
"What is she worth to you? I'll pay her debt if you allow me to keep her," Adamar explained quickly and curtly.   
  
"What would you want with a half starved thief?" the Sheriff asked confoundedly.   
  
Adamar gazed back with a chilling stare and answered in a colder voice, "I wish to re-establish this girl's morality and teach her about retribution so that she may know what a mistake it is to thieve for a living," his voice turning to a snarl as he snatched her free hand which had previously been reaching for the dagger tucked in his belt.   
  
The Sheriff observed with a quirked brow.   
  
"Ten gold pieces," he rattled, testing Adamar's conviction.   
  
It was Adamar's turn to raise his brow in the first show of emotion since the beginning of the conversation.  
  
"Ten gold pieces? My, my, what an expensive little piece of filth," he spat cruelly, glancing at her.   
  
He wrapped a lithe arm around her, pinning her tiny arms to her ribs and reached for a heavy coin purse on his belt. Tossing it to the Sheriff, he nodded his approval.   
  
"You have your ten gold pieces, now leave us," he commanded darkly.   
  
The Sheriff nodded in resignation and turned to leave.   
  
The girl suddenly cried out, "No! He'll do me in! He'll shred my hide! Please don't go!"   
  
The Sheriff did not deign to give her a second glance as he mounted his horse.   
  
"As far as I'm concerned, thief, he ought to and do us all a favor," he called as he rode away.   
  
The girl began to weep, almost collapsing in his arms until he jerked her roughly to her feet.   
  
"Quiet, girl, if I wanted to kill you I'd not have paid so much," he muttered as he began to lead her back to his cavalcade.   
  
"Please!" she cried.   
  
"You spend an awful lot of time begging, girl. You ought to start begging mercy from God, he already knows I won't give you it to you." 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
This chapter may contain violence and some sexual material.   
*To the readers: I apologize for spelling our dear Adhemar's name incorrectly. It was only just brought to my attention and I am a total fool. Sorry! J *  
  
He roughly jerked her ahead of him and forced her to walk, keeping a tight grip on her elbow and never once loosening it. He could tell that she was searching for some way to escape, but he had confidence that she would not get out of his sight even she did manage to break free.   
  
"So tell me, why thieving for a child like yourself? Surely such an attractive girl could think of less unlawful ways to earn money…" he derided bitingly.   
  
She tensed even more under his grip and this time he sensed a feeling of not only insult, but rejoinder in her stillness. It angered him that she would try to make a stand with her sullen silence. He spun her around and cupped her chin in his hand so she was forced to confront him and peered directly into her face, his eyes burning dangerously.   
  
"Now you listen to me, rag girl, when I deign to speak to you, I expect an answer. Understand?" he demanded, his teeth clenched.   
  
"Certainly… Count Adhemar," she murmured, as though the name itself was an insult.   
He was alarmed to find that color rushed to his cheeks and he almost forced her away from him but knew she would run, so he tightened his grip to one of steel and she whimpered in pain and those beautiful eyes closed. When they did he felt he could breathe again.   
  
"C- call me that in that particular tone of voice ever again and I'll make you long for a quick death," he whispered, somehow the softness of his voice sounding infinitely more dangerous than if he had yelled.   
  
It had been as though she knew everything. About his humiliation, his anger, his doubt… he shook the thought away. She was certainly not a mind reader. Perhaps she had been in London for the joust. His name was known throughout the country, after all. He would not let himself become so rattled again.  
They rejoined the caravan, some of his servants throwing their master and the urchin girl strange looks, others giving each other knowing ones. Adhemar ignored them and kept his grip on the girl in front of him. His eyes traveled over the strands of auburn hair that had fallen loose of a messy braid that traveled half way down her back. With a good washing, it could actually be quite beautiful. She was lucky, usually a life of destitution made it hard for a woman to have any attractive features. However, she had many of them even if they were buried beneath layers of dirt and grime at the moment. She did not have the customary primitive look of a peasant.   
  
"What is your name?" he demanded without grace.   
  
She was silent for a beat and then answered, "My name is Adriana," her voice barely above a whisper.   
  
Adhemar considered this for a moment with mild surprise.   
  
"You obviously had presumptuous parents… or overly optimistic ones. Did they think that perhaps they could marry you off to a handsome noble desperate for a wife because you've been blessed with that angelic face? Hmm?" he scorned, catching her chin between his thumb and forefinger.   
  
She jerked away, her eyes igniting like a bonfire before they turned away from him. He was, for the first time since his defeat, amused. He gave a small chuckle and kept her moving forward. He scanned the vast expanse of countryside they had yet to cover. He was quickly growing weary of holding her, and would have paid a fortune for a horse at that point.   
  
"Donal, be on watch for an inn. I don't relish the idea of sleeping beside the road tonight," he called to his servant.   
  
"Yes m'lord," Donal called back.   
  
"I know of an inn, m'lord," Adriana piped softly without any tone that would indicate the hellcat temper he had seen in her eyes a moment ago.   
  
"Where is this inn?" he questioned, only half believingly.   
  
She stopped and looked about, getting her bearings.   
  
"Five miles west, I should think," she commented, shielding her eyes from the dying sun.   
  
Adhemar looked to where she pointed. It didn't seem as though there should be an inn anywhere that close. They were in the middle of the countryside. However, he was inclined to believe her. She didn't seem to be lying and for some reason he didn't think she was the type to lie, even if she was angry.   
  
"All right, Adriana. Lead the way," he said in a polished tone, still grasping her arm, even though it had lost the tenseness and was pliant in his large hand.   
  
She moved on, heading down the mild hill, remaining silent and only occasionally giving a short hiss of breath as her bare feet would catch a sharp stone or splinter of wood.   
  
Almost an hour later they came to a small farm house with a sign hanging over the door.   
  
"Black Water Inn. I'm pleased, Adriana. You may have just earned yourself a bit of amnesty," Adhemar murmured, letting his gaze travel over her inquisitively, scanning for any damage his cruelty may have inflicted.   
  
She didn't reply, but those haunting eyes turned to gaze at him. They angered and excited him simultaneously. Their knowledge and obvious scorn for him made him itch to slap her, yet their was something else… that burning strength that was swirling about within made part of yearn to lean down and kiss her. He wanted to taste that power he felt so depleted of. He had had that once, he had been powerful. But it had been dashed away in a moment's time. So how did this filthy urchin thief manage to hold her head so high? And especially after begging so piteously.   
  
"Donal, go pay the fee. Whatever they ask, just have them draw a bath and ready a room," Adhemar ordered.   
  
Donal did as he was told, knowing full well where the girl was to sleep that night by the look his lord was giving her.   
  
Adriana did not resist when Adhemar pulled her into the inn and lead her up the stairs to the room. It was small, but quaint and well kept. She tried not to think too much on the fact that there was but one bed. She would sleep on the floor, she continued to tell herself.   
Several servants entered the room after them, hauling in an enormous wooden barrel. Adriana watched them, as did Adhemar, only one of them knowing what the itinerary for that night was going to be. A few minutes later, when they had heated two pots of water, the servants began to fill the barrel, the water's steam traveling through the air eerily like ghosts. Adriana shivered as she watched the very last servant turn and leave when they had finished. He shut the door behind him with a desolate sound that echoed through the room and gave her goose bumps.   
  
Adhemar finally released his grip on her and she slipped away quickly, wondering how on earth she could defend herself against him. He was pleased to find that she could not bring herself to look him directly in the eyes this time.   
  
"I'll leave if m'lord would like to bathe," she muttered, a shivery tone running under the feigned tranquility.   
  
Adhemar almost smiled.   
  
"The bath is for you, dear," he interjected coolly.   
  
Adriana's head snapped up and he was surprised to see a gleaming ferocity in her glare. She remained quiet, obviously biting her tongue with some restraint.   
  
"That's kind of my Lord, but I don't wish to bathe," she declined.   
  
Adhemar simply continued to stare at her with a look of ennui.   
  
"Bathe," he growled, leaving no room for argument.   
  
"No thank you," she spat back, losing her own temper.   
  
  
"That's not a request, it is an order. I didn't bid that the bath be filled for your pleasure, I ordered it because I have no intention of sharing my bed with you in the state you're in," he barked harshly.   
  
Adriana's eyes widened with disbelief and horror.   
  
"I've no intention of sharing a bed with you!" she shouted, her voice quivering on the edge of hysteria.   
  
Adhemar was suddenly coming at her and snatched her by the shoulders, tossing her with ease onto the straw mattress of the bed and pinning her with a knee.   
  
"Perhaps in your former life you weren't familiar with respect and all that the word encompasses, but you'll have to learn because I own you. Or are you unclear about what ownership is as well? You being a thief and what not--"   
  
She suddenly slapped him. The sound of her palm striking his swarthy cheek wasn't nearly as loud as the silence that followed. For a moment he simply gazed at her, the fire visibly building in the other's eyes. He suddenly lost all control and snatched her arms, stretching them behind her head and pinning them against the bed. He forced his mouth onto hers then, driving his tongue past her teeth so viciously it seemed he was stabbing her. He heard the muffled sound of her whimper. He didn't know if it was because she was frightened, disgusted or in pain. He didn't care, all he cared about was mastering those young lips.   
She almost marveled in awe-struck horror at his brutality and misconduct. He was a gentleman of the upper class, even if he did not behave as such with her, he should not have known how to kiss in such a way. In such a hungry way. It felt as though he were trying to steal the air from her lungs, the very life from her body. He wanted to break her spirit. Where would a gentleman learn to do such a thing? Why would he feel the need to be so cruel? Ah, he was also a soldier. She had heard the tales that proceeded the successful knight. He committed atrocities that made men wince and women swoon to hear of. He had probably taken many women in far off places in such a way, breaking them to his ferocious will.   
  
Well she would not let him break her in such a way. She was not like the rest.   
  
He suddenly broke sway with her and stared down, expecting to see tears or fear, or any emotion that satisfy the burning need for mastery that seared him from inside. But he got no satisfaction. She gazed back, her eyes cloudy and distant, the fire secreted away to some remote spot in her heart. He almost growled at her like an animal. His rage was as hot as a black smith's fire, yet she seemed unafraid of his weapon growing dangerously hot there by the second. He jerked her to her feet, tossing her toward the barrel.   
  
When she made no move to remove the rags that covered her slim frame, he stepped forward and gripped the collar of her shredded cloak and tore it from her body as though it were nothing. She winced, suddenly feeling the chill of the room and a sliver of fear overtook her. She stood nude before him as he gazed at her like a caged animal that had just been released for the purpose of hunting… 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
*Again, a warning of-- hee hee-- sexual innuendo, but no actual acts. It may be a bit rough, however. But if you're reading this, it's not like you care! And thank you for all the lovely reviews! I crave feedback so keep updating me and I will keep updating this!*  
  
She was afraid the look into those eyes of his. Terrified she would see not a man, but a beast. She shuddered and did not dare move, for fear that he would catch her and in doing so touch her skin, perhaps sending him over the edge.   
His gaze roved over her. She was a trifle thinner than he would have liked. Her ribs were visible beneath the taut skin pulled over them. He had expected to find that she would have some deformity as most miscreants had. The mark of a life lived in brutal conditions. But her skin was smooth, almost flawless. It was almost as though someone had pampered it. Everything else about her was enough to make any man's eyes wander.   
She was young, but no child. Her body had reached maturity, but showed no other signs of age. He still could not tell whether she be fifteen or twenty. If he wanted to know, he would have to ask her. He rarely ever wanted to know, rarely ever cared. In his darkest transgressions he had taken them younger and never thought twice about it until he was finished.   
  
He stepped toward her, his boots falling heavily on the wooden floor. He stopped, inches away from her, so that their bodies almost met, and he raised a hand to her neck. Drawing her close he prepared to taste those lips again, only this time, he did not intend to stop for anything.   
  
"I beg you, please stop! If there is any honor in you, then you will not continue this," she murmured hastily.   
  
This grabbed his attention.   
  
"You think that taking your maiden head is something that will cause me guilt?" he demanded duskily, his lips close to hers.   
  
"How do you know I am a virgin? I have had many men. A night with me could mean many visits to a physician. Is that what you want?" she stammered breathlessly.   
  
He almost laughed, instead a slow smile spread on his sensuous lips.   
  
"Were you not a virgin you'd not have taken such offense at my earlier inquiry of why you didn't choose whoring as your profession. And even if I were wrong about that and you could boast so many a man's desire, you would show the signs of disease, would you not? You have none. In fact, you're quite well kept, I'm impressed. So lying to me about promiscuity won't work. I will have you," he growled triumphantly, pulling her against him roughly.   
  
She winced and attempted to push him away but she had not eaten properly in so long, her strength was gone. Even if she had gained all of it back in that instant, she could not have fought him off. He was too intent on having her, too strong a soldier. She would have to find another way of deterring him.   
  
"Your servants will know!" she cried as he lifted her from the ground and tossed her at the bed.   
  
Thankfully, she landed atop it and not beside it. At her words he did chuckle this time.   
  
"You think they don't already?" he inquired.   
  
"Everyone, the inn keeper included, will know that the great Count Adhemar must resort to picking up street rats to satisfy his appetites. Is that something you want them think, particularly after such a decimating loss in the joust?" she cried desperately, forgetting herself.   
  
He was suddenly on top of her, crushing her, and she felt the cold tip of steel at her throat. He had drawn his dagger and had it pressed to the hollow of her neck dangerously.   
  
"Aye. That's right I was there. I was there to see when you fell from your horse onto the flat of your--"  
  
"If you finish that statement I will have my way with you-- only… I'll do it with this blade I have here in my hand…" he warned, brandishing the dagger that had had previously threatened her throat in full view.   
  
Adriana's eyes found his for a chilling moment and she knew he told the truth. Her words died hesitantly, but she remained silent all the same.  
  
Adhemar was almost convinced that this wretch was more than she seemed. Perhaps some kind of witch, or siren, luring him with her wiles and all seeing. How else could she have known those words? Those words that haunted him. For a moment her voice and the echo of Thatcher's had been one and the same.   
  
"Get into the bath," he murmured, his voice lacking any animosity, perhaps making it even more eerie than if it had.   
  
It seemed he was simply requesting her to take the bath. However, the dagger still glinted in front of her evilly. She gave a resigned nod and felt him remove his weight from atop her. He waited for her to get to her feet and watched as she slipped into the steaming water. She was able to sit and submerge herself in the liquid to her neck, grime floating about her form her own body.   
  
For some reason she was more ashamed by this than her nakedness.  
  
She began to rub at the dirt and her skin shown through as pale as cream. Her gaze drifted toward the bed to find that Adhemar was watching her distrustfully, his eyes narrowed. He had seated himself on the bed and sat with his back against the head board and one knee drawn up for his arms to rest on. The other leg was hanging over the side of the bed languidly. His shirt hung open at the neck and chest carelessly. He seemed infinitely calm, even though she knew he was not. She could only imagine what he was plotting as his eyes pierced her from a distance.   
_______  
  
"I'm finished," she mumbled coldly a bit later.   
  
He rose from the bed without a word and reached into the barrel, yanking her out roughly as she dripped water everywhere. Forcing her hands toward him he pressed them to his chest violently and slid them into the gaping opening of the neck, her hands making contact with his feverish skin. They slid lower to his abdomen, then, to her horror they slid lower. He willed them to remain there, touching him.   
  
"Make yourself familiar with this. Feel how warm I am, and how warm you could have been tonight. But because you're so insolent I'm going to let you sleep in the barn with the other animals."  
  
He pulled her toward the door and called for Donal sharply who appeared quickly.   
  
"Yes, M'lord?"   
  
"Take her to the barn and make sure she stays there for the night. And if you so much as give her a horse blanket to cover up with, I'll have your head for it," Adhemar spat, tossing Adriana out into the freezing night.   
  
Steam rose from her wet body and she shivered violently, but she was safe. She hadn't been subjected to his torture.   
  
Donal nodded and led her to the barn wearily. He gave her an apologetic look before he closed the door behind him. Adriana looked dolefully at a pile of hay that was to be her bed. She wouldn't allow herself to dwell on the memory of how warm her new found adversary was. 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
*I just know that you all enjoyed the "warmth" in the last chapter. Well, don't fret children there is still much more sexual tension to come! This chapter contains illicitness. Basically it's just foreplay but nothing follows. A forced hj.*  
  
Adriana awoke the next morning with a start. Something had been thrown on top of her. Squinting she looked down to see it was her cloak and a pair of leggings. They were tattered and much too large for her but the fine tailoring immediately told her whom they belonged to.   
"Dress…quickly," was all that the too familiarly calm voice ordered.   
  
She listened to him turn and exit the barn, a bit surprised that he did not insist on watching her pull the frayed outfit on.   
  
She had not had much time to ponder where it was that he was taking her. The previous evening had been too fraught with intense emotions to think on it for any length of time. Now it was the major issue that clouded her mind, along with an even darker matter: how long could she keep him from savaging her?   
Adhemar watched the young woman slip out of the barn, seemingly unfazed by having to sleep with livestock. Probably a rather common occurrence, he thought bitterly. He had not slept well that night. In point of fact, he had probably slept more fitfully in his quaint room with a bed and a fireplace than she had in a lofty barn with nothing but hay to warm her. It had not just been that he had wanted to feel the softness of her skin rub against his body, or to catch the scent of their combined excitement and the product of their efforts, he had wanted those things… so badly he was almost alarmed by it, but her words had affected him more deeply than he cared to think about. But the worst part about all of it was that he had let her see how much they affected him. He had lost control, something that he despised.   
He had chastised himself most of the night, vowing not to do it again. But the mere sight of her brought back every sensation, every fear, every desire he had felt the evening before. He tried to push them away, to escape them by thinking of anything but her, but it was difficult when he couldn't tear his eyes from her hair flowing behind her majestically. From her body, held upright and straight with the posture of poise, her elegant way of moving about. And her eyes… he could not let go of her eyes. They silently challenged him, seeming to say, "Do what you will, but I will not be defeated." Such strength, such pride! How did she do it? She was beggar! Yet to watch her you would think she was a queen!  
His grip tightened on the reins of a newly acquired horse. He had struck a bargain with the owner of the inn, paying what knew was far too much for the old farming mare. She hardly compared to the steed he had lost in the joust. He shrugged off the disappointment.   
  
He had a new stallion to saddle.   
  
Although, likening the wild vagrant to a horse was hard even for Adhemar. He quickly mounted and rode towards her, picking her up painfully by the arm without warning. Seating her carelessly in front of him on the horse, arms wrapped around her more tightly than they needed to be, they started toward their destination. He felt her squirm under his touch and probably in discomfort at their closeness, but he ignored it and kept riding in silence.   
  
"Where are you taking me?" she asked quite suddenly.   
  
"Wherever I wish. You're my servant now, and will accompany me wherever I travel," he replied brusquely.   
  
"Your servant?" she scoffed, understanding that she was acting foolishly by doing so.   
  
He was silent for a long moment before he answered, "I thought we discussed this."  
  
"We discussed nothing. You held a knife to my throat and threatened me. I only ask because the services you wish me to provide are a bit off kilter for those of a servant," she snapped back.   
  
"You have a sharp tongue. Perhaps that's why you have such a hard time holding it," he sneered coldly.   
  
Her temper flared. He had cleverly avoided acknowledgement of her accusation. When rationalized, she knew that accusing him of anything was hardly worth her while, he would never listen. It made her angry enough to blurt out her next statement mockingly.   
  
"Would you have Donal perform those tasks, then?"   
  
There was a taut silence, made so by her expectance of a beating or some other abuse. But none came. He managed to keep himself calm and collected, but not easily.   
  
"I have no need or interest for Donal to do my bidding in those… duties. However, if I did, Donal would adhere to my demands quite willingly, I assure you. That's what sets you apart from him."  
  
"I'm no servant," she hissed.   
  
"No, I suppose you're not. A servant obeys willingly. There's another word for your type," Adhemar retorted icily.   
  
"What is it?"   
  
"A slave."   
____________________  
  
They traveled for hours, Adriana became painfully uncomfortable from having ridden so long, however Adhemar--who was quite used to riding for days at a time-- went on unsympathetically. She was forced to move about, trying to relieve the taut soreness in her legs and rear, and in doing so pushed against the solidity of Adhemar's chest.   
  
"You sorely tempt me, Adriana," he murmured lowly after a few minutes of her restlessness.   
  
She stopped immediately, trying to slide forward in the saddle and not succeeding. It was only then that she realized with repulsion that she had been pushing against more parts of him than his chest.   
  
"Don't misunderstand, I would never deliberately tempt you. I only move to allay my pain," she spat scornfully.   
  
She tempts me with every passing second whether she does it deliberately or not, Adhemar thought to himself.   
  
Something suddenly occurred to him and he was at a loss to explain why he had not noticed it before.   
  
"It's obvious you've had an education, had you not you could not insult me so eloquently. Where did you get it? Who taught you?" he demanded.  
  
"I was educated in a monastery near London," she muttered shortly.   
  
"How did you afford that?" he riposted almost immediately.   
  
"Why do you take so much interest in a peasant?" she retorted, becoming cross.  
  
Adhemar might have become angry with her petulant tone and evasion of questions, but he was rather amused. It pleased him to see he was cracking her shell, getting her angry. He gave a short chuckle of enjoyment.  
  
"Because I have never met a peasant as hot tempered and disrespectful as you. I only wish to know the origin of this lack of obedience," he mocked callously.  
  
"Let me down, I wish to walk," she growled firmly.   
  
"Tell me and I'll walk. You may have the horse to yourself," he haggled.   
  
"I would rather walk," she replied coldly.   
  
Now his temper and his interest were sparked. He tightened his grip on her body.   
  
"All right, tell me or I'll tie and drag you behind the horse for a bit," he threatened.   
  
She gave a disparaging sigh.   
  
"My parents could have afforded any education they wanted me to have," she murmured cryptically.   
  
"How is that?" he scoffed disbelievingly.   
  
"You think you know so much!" she spat, suddenly irate, "You know nothing of my life and I don't wish you to."   
  
"I wish to know," he argued, as if this simple point should have been enough for her to break down and tell him everything.   
  
"I was as spoiled as you once. All nobility is the same, you act like children. You only care about what pleases you and nothing else matters," she scathed.   
  
"You forget I am a soldier. I spend most of my time overseas fighting for the people of this country. Now tell me I only care about myself," he snapped righteously.   
  
It was her turn to scoff. She turned in the saddle abruptly, her face only inches from his, her eyes burning into him.   
  
"Do you actually love any of those people?" she demanded.   
  
"Why should I tell you? You won't answer one of my questions," he said bitterly, averting his eyes to the road ahead to avoid hers.   
  
"I'll answer any question you can think of if you tell me the answer to that," she proffered.   
  
"I don't bargain with slaves," he sneered.   
  
"You may title me with whatever demeaning name you want, that doesn't mean it applies," she told him somberly.   
  
With that she turned around and sat forward again.   
  
Adhemar was at a loss. He should have been furious, should have wanted to throw her from the horse and beat it out of her, but he didn't. He simply wanted to know. He had never been so intrigued before. She was a total mystery. A mystery that, if left unsolved, was unconquerable.   
  
"No. I suppose I don't. Love is an emotion of weakness, I've always been taught to discount it."  
  
She listened closely to the sound of his voice when he said this. It sounded monotone, forced in fact. As if it were an automatic response. However, she couldn't tell if it was due to the fact that he was irritated at having to submit to her demands, or if he was lying.   
  
"That's very sad. It makes me obliged to pity even a creature such as you."  
  
This statement relit his temper with a vengeance and he halted the horse, dismounting gracefully and yanked her to the ground. He held her by the arm, gripping it painfully and made sure she was looking at him when he spoke.   
  
"I don't need your pity!" he shouted, almost desperate.   
  
__________  
  
He took a moment to regain control, his shoulders rising and falling visibly, his eyes burning. He reminded her of a wolf, powerful, dangerous, and reticent.   
  
He grabbed her hand in his and pulled her to her feet, leading her away from the small caravan and into one of the numerous thickets beside the road. Adriana had to hold her free arm in front of her face to avoid getting scratched by the thick brambles and skeletal tree limbs.  
  
Finding a small clearing, he tossed her down and top her shock, fell atop her, pinning her to the soft grass. One arm on either side of her body made escape impossible. He stared down at her hungrily, intent on getting what he wanted. She prepared herself for the struggle…   
  
"It's your turn to keep your part of the bargain. Tell me everything I want to know," he growled in his unique rasp.   
  
Adriana relaxed a bit. Was he serious? He wasn't going to ravage her? She searched his gaze for the answers but it told her nothing. He only looked upon her ravenously. Then she understood, he was silently giving her a choice. Share her past with him, or indulge him in carnality.   
  
"My parents were the Duke and Duchess of Wilshire. I was born noble, every bit as you."   
  
Adhemar blinked once at this revelation. A slow smile grew on his lips. He pulled himself off of her and stood over her laughing.   
  
"You really expected me to believe that? Did you think I was that ignorant? A half wit would know you were lying!" he exclaimed.   
  
Adriana got to her feet angrily.   
  
"You didn't even let me continue! There's more to it than that!" she shouted.   
  
This amused him further.   
  
"I apologize if I have vexed m'lady, go right ahead," he mocked cruelly.   
  
Adriana felt her cheeks burn in humiliation and frustration. He didn't believe a word she was saying and probably wouldn't no matter what she did. In her fury at his utter disregard for her, she tumbled him to the ground and sat atop him similarly to what he had done to her a moment before. Alas, she did not have his power and he quickly seized her around the waist. His hands were terribly strong and they bent her forward so that their lips were inches apart.   
  
"Has m'lady changed her mind?" he whispered lecherously.  
  
"I only want you to listen," she replied quietly.   
  
"Then speak," he muttered dismissively.   
  
"I tell you the truth when I say that my parents were nobles. I had the finest education, but my parents never meant for me to use it. They'd have been better off had they never let me learn anything and grow into a dumb, docile cow," she recounted with bitter passion.   
  
"Something I've said all my life about any woman," Adhemar interjected rudely.   
  
She glared him into silence and went on.   
  
"When I was sixteen my father made arrangements for my marriage to a man three times my age whom I did not even know."  
  
"A common occurrence," Adhemar stated flatly.   
  
"I wanted nothing to do with it. Perhaps marrying someone you've never met before is something you could cope with, but not me… not me. I waited for a year as the wedding date came closer, tightening around my neck like a noose. On my seventeenth birthday, I ran. I snuck out after dark and made my way from town to town until I was sure I was too far away for even a hound to find. It was impossible for me to find work, no one would hire a girl my age."   
  
"No, no one needed a girl your size and of your frailty and delicateness. Your noble upbringing made sure that physical labor was something you never had to experience, making you practically useless," he explained hardheartedly.  
  
She nodded, if nothing else glad that he finally believed her.   
  
"Perhaps. But I did learn a trade soon enough. I found that thieving, though wrong in my heart fed me enough to get by. For a year that's how I lived. The morning of the joust, I tried to pickpocket the wrong man. He caught me and I had to run… but you know the rest of that story," she finished resentfully.  
  
She started to rise, but he held her stead fast to his body.   
  
"Why give up so much only to avoid more luxury? This man you almost married must have been wealthy. You'd have been taken care of the rest of your life. Why run?"  
  
She looked at him blankly for a moment.   
  
"I didn't love him," she stated simply.   
  
"Why should that matter?"   
  
"I wouldn't spend the rest of my life with someone I didn't love, no matter how luxurious the benefits," she said emphatically.  
  
He rolled her underneath him.   
  
"How is it that this love is so important to you and yet I have never known it?" he whispered sensually against her ear.   
  
For a moment, Adriana's body thrilled at this assertive, yet un-aggressive action. She reacted without thinking and felt her hips leave the ground to grind against his. Felt her head tilt, offering him her lips. As if she wasn't herself, she wouldn't do those things! Of course she wouldn't-- would she? It was as if she had fallen under a spell.   
  
  
He was surprised by the sudden change in her movements. Her reactions told him she wanted to be taken-- right now.   
  
"If this is what you call love, I'm better acquainted with it than I thought," he murmured, pressing warm lips to her neck.   
  
Her eyes opened suddenly and she realized what she was doing. Pressing her hands firmly to his chest, she forced him away.   
  
"This isn't love. It's lust, nothing more. And it's powerful enough to make me do things I'd have otherwise never done," she spat harshly.   
  
"All the same, you're not getting up from this spot until I am satisfied," he growled.   
  
"You should not make threats you cannot hold to. One of your servants will come looking for you eventually," she retorted smartly.   
  
"And would you rather have him find me between your thighs-- or fully clothed… as though nothing had happened?" he hissed dangerously.   
  
Adriana's better judgment was impaired by her extreme curiosity and she asked the fatal question.   
  
"How do you expect to accomplish that?"   
  
He reached for her hand and wrapped his own around it, leading it toward the buckle on his breeches.   
  
"No! Don't, I don't want this!" she shouted forcefully.   
  
"Then close your eyes," he muttered softly.   
  
She instinctively did as he said and winced, her eyes shutting tightly. She tried to transport herself to anywhere else, but to no avail. She was still painfully aware of the heat she felt against her hand as he slipped it into his breeches. His hand was the guide for her unwilling grasp. He made her take him firmly and he led her in the act, watching her closed eyes all the while.   
  
They lay there on the grass, Adhemar held up by one powerful arm, the other entwined with hers leading into the opening of his pants. His hips began to thrust against her and there was only the sound of breathing. Occasionally, as he neared climax he would moan deep in his chest. When he was finally satisfied she felt him throb for a moment and then tense in every part of his body. She felt dizzy with dissention of what had just happened when she felt wetness on her hand. Her eyes remained closed, but he rose from her and left her alone on the ground to shiver with the disgust of her own actions…and the humiliation that he had not been the only one who had climaxed in that terrible moment. 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
  
Sorry for the delay my friends but life has been too hectic for poor Adhemar and Adriana. I apologize for the wait and hope that you enjoy! (BTW this is a short one, don't be mad, I'm writing a couple chapters tonight!)  
  
Adriana simply lay there on the ground, shivering. Before she knew what was going on, strong arms were pulling her to her feet unsteadily. With a jolt, she cried out and pulled away, knowing it was him. She could faintly hear the gentle trickle of a little stream running through the woods not far from them. She rushed off toward that sound without thinking. Adhemar followed, unconcerned about catching her. Her body was quaking so fiercely that all her speed and balance had been purloined. He just watched as she found the stream and knelt beside it, letting her hands be caressed by the cool water. His product being washed away seemed to calm her some. He slowly approached her and knelt beside the shuddering girl.   
  
"Surely it wasn't cause for all this emotion…" he murmured silkily.   
  
She winced at the sound of his voice.   
  
"I have never touched a man so intimately, particularly one whom I despise so adamantly."  
  
This affected him more than he would have liked and he responded in anger.   
  
"If it is in you to despise me, then do so quietly, for it is also now your duty to respect me. That means doing as I say," he growled angrily.   
  
She was silent for a long pause. Too long, Adhemar became uncomfortable with it.   
  
"You will not break me," she muttered lowly.   
  
"What?" he demanded.   
  
"You… will not break me!" she shouted vehemently, "No man ever shall!"  
  
She rose to her feet, challenging him more than ever with those eyes. He quickly rose to tower over her, but it did no good. He was dwarfed by her inflexibility.   
  
"The only way to tame my heart is to fill it with love and no master may ever accomplish that," she explained firmly.   
  
He caught her by the shoulders and glared at her, feeling the power of her gaze. His mouth opened and he meant to shout: "Fear is more of an effective tool in discipline than love could ever be!" But the words didn't come.   
  
Instead he bent, and his lips met hers softly, more tenderly than he had ever kissed any woman. His surprise at this was almost greater than her own. When she broke from him words finally left his lips but they were not what he wanted to say.   
  
"This is not lust. I-- don't know what this is…" his voice was no more than a whisper, blending in with the rustle of leaves about them.   
  
The look in his eyes frightened Adriana terribly. What he said could not possibly be true! She pulled herself from him and started toward the caravan. He followed after, for the first time knowing absolutely that he would not have to chase her. He noticed that she did not pull away when he mounted their horse behind her, nor did her body tighten when his arms went around her. However she remained silent the rest of the ride back to his manor.   
  
He was shocked to find that sometime during the short time they had spent together, his longing for her silence had ended and now he yearned to hear her voice. 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
  
Okay gang, this is a short one but it's sweet. I thinks you'll likes. J  
  
  
The ride proved to last for days. Several times they stopped, and Adriana was treated decently, if not with cool courtesy. It was still enormously better than the kind of treatment she had received that first night. In a nearly five day ride Adhemar had not spoken a word directly to her. Not that she minded. She was still shocked and sickened by what had happened in the forest. She was upset with herself, not for letting it happen, for enjoying it.   
She felt her stomach turn when she confronted herself with the bitter truth. Part of her had taken pleasure in that fumbling blur of heat and lust. What she couldn't bring herself to think about was why. Why had his moans produced such a tremendous heat inside of her? Her relief that he initiated no conversation sprung, not from her dislike for him, but from fear of her own emotions. She also avoided contact with those burning green eyes. They seemed to search her for something in every waking moment. She even felt them on her in her sleep. What was he searching for? So many questions.   
  
One was soon to be answered.   
  
On the fourth day of riding, after her legs were rubbed raw and her muscles throbbed from clinging to the horse for so long, they arrived at the knight's manor. It was grand with the wealth his other assets had implied he possessed. She gazed up at the stone and mortar edifice with trepidation. This was to be her new home? Another prison… and this time she did not have the luxury of being waited on. No… this time she was the servant. Oh what had she gotten herself into? She asked herself this many times as they passed through the gates into uncertainty.  
  
__________________________________________________________________________________  
  
Adhemar spoke nary a word to her as they dismounted and she was silently led into the manor. Her guide, Donal, directed her through the main hall and down several long corridors. The place seemed to stretch on forever. Finally, he halted beside a large oak door and gestured her inside. She tentatively stepped in and the door shut behind her quickly. Not a word had been exchanged.   
Adriana could hardly believe what she saw. It was lavish room, done up in expensive looking cloth and furnished with rugs. There was even a fire place big enough to fit the girl inside of it. And then there was the bed… with silken sheets and finely carved. It was enormous, sitting blatantly in the middle of the room. Her heart nearly stopped. Such finery could only mean… she was in his room! She panicked, racing to the door only to find what she had already expected. Locked. She was trapped. And now she would have to wait until he came to her. She slowly made her way around the bed, finally hoisting herself up on it. It was as soft as she had imagined… softer maybe… and despite her fear, it wasn't long before her eyes shut and she slept.   
_________________________________________________________________________________  
  
Waking with a start, she sat up. She had no inkling of how long she had slept, nor what time of day it was… or if it was night. To be truthful, she did not even register her surroundings upon waking. Then it all cam flooding back. She glanced about the room swiftly, finding that she was still very alone. But something was different… she looked down to see that the covers had been drawn up around her to ensure that she was warm. A roaring fire had been started in the fireplace, and then she saw it-- at the end of the bed. A chemise made of the softest silk she had ever seen. It was more lavish than anything even her parents could have afforded. Someone had left it for her. Her confusion was hasty and fierce. Who had done all this? Surely not Adhemar… surely… What did he expect in payment for these small kindnesses?   
  
The answers became more unclear as well as her feelings when-- for some strange reason-- Adhemar never came to her that night. 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7  
*Okay, here it is. I'm SORRY SORRY SORRY! My life is chaos and my Adhemar muse left me and… well-- as they say, sh*t happens. Anyway, here is more of the beloved knight, fear not. I will try to be more consistent from now on my lovely, perfect fans, if you are out there. Again, I apologize!!! Also, I mention dear little Adhemar's first name in a past memory. Just a warning, so don't be confused!*  
  
Adhemar was seated in his study, reviewing matters of court. It appeared that his service was at risk of being called upon in France once again. His thoughts were scattered, obviously one matter taking precedence over everything else. He threw down the scrolls in frustration, cursing himself and the girl. Never had any woman managed to invade his thoughts when it came to his job, correcting himself, no woman had ever even troubled his mind when selecting a new horse. Nothing interfered with his service in the army.   
Yet he knew that he could not push her out of his thoughts until he saw her, until he spoke to her, heard her voice. He was unsure where the sudden burst of tender generosity came from that had caused him to order the fireplace stoked and lit, and the gift of the chemise to be laid out on her bed. It had been an intended engagement present for Lady Jocelyn. His hands went to his temples, rubbing them in irritation. He had entered negotiations with the woman's father, meaning to marry her. Now he didn't relish the idea of taking her as a wife. Admittedly, he had been doing it to spite Thatcher. However beautiful Jocelyn was, he really knew nothing about her, nor did he care to. That, in addition to the fact that it seemed she shared some truly tender emotions with Thatcher, made him almost queasy with the prospect of tying himself down to her.  
*And I doubt that she would appreciate her husband keeping a concubine.*   
He thought maliciously with a snide chuckle. It faded quickly. Was that what Adriana was? He was stunned to find he was referring to her by her name in his thoughts, as though he had done so forever. As though that name had been known to him all his life. Yet he had known her for nary a week. He suddenly tossed a pile of assorted things off of the top of his desk in a violent fit of frustration. What was she doing to him? He reconsidered his suspicions of witchery. Why else would he be feeling things for the stupid urchin that he did not wish to feel?   
All the anger was carefully directed her, not himself. He didn't want to think it was some flaw in his own character. He didn't need anymore doubt of who he was. He had already found that he was not as invincible as he had believed, he certainly did not savor the idea of finding out he was guilty of the one emotion every man in his family had dubbed synonymous with *weak*… love.   
  
"Love?" he heard himself murmur aloud.   
  
The sound of his own voice saying that treacherous word startled him. He repeated it, sneering this time. Something he had seen his father do a thousand times.   
  
"Love. Love is something only the weakest feel, Dallin," his father would tell him sternly. "Of course, it's all right to care about things. I care for my king and country, and for my land and property, my people… and you and your mother of course. But never let yourself be bewitched by love. You can have a woman without falling victim to becoming weak with love…"   
  
The lecture had affected the green eyed, curly haired page for the rest of his years. Adhemar had often surmised that it was directly due to that conversation and others like it, that he had taken his place as a general. His father had made him strong, and until his death, Adhemar, the son, had made him quite proud. He was careful never to love anything, lest it make him weak.   
  
And now… that little wretch was tearing down all of his defenses with her simpering looks and a bit of will born to her out of the haughtiness only the upper class could know.   
  
He seethed angrily. An irrational anger, but what else could he do in his confusion? By his father's standards, he was at risk of failing once again by allowing himself to feel something for the girl, yet he didn't know how to stop it. The thought of sending her way didn't seem an option. She was his, he wanted her, he wanted to have her by his side and admire her day and night. With a little coaching and care, she was fit to be a princess.   
But she was so damned proud! Her pride almost outweighed his. No, that wasn't true. Much as he hated to admit it, her pride was simply more durable than his. She had endured being cast out of a life of luxury into a life of hardship and even servitude. Been forced to thieve, to live in filth, to degrade herself to the lowest level, and yet the look in her eyes still spoke of dignity. He found himself asking, did he really want to take that from her? Did he really want to break her? He had thought that by crushing that seemingly indestructible spirit he would renew, rejuvenate his own sense of honor and dignity. But then what would he have to admire? A shell. A ghost of the girl who caught his interest and held it firmly with her head held high and her eyes blazing. Hoe did she manage to hold on to all that? He wondered continually. And how did she manage to do it with such ease when he had been crushed the first time his pride had been tested? She truly was what the word nobility strove to be.   
That thought reminded him of her story. She was the daughter of a duke and duchess. Those in closest quarters with the king himself. Surely word would spread that he had found her and they would inevitably come to claim her. He scowled momentarily. They would come for her and she would end up married to an old man who didn't deserve her… who didn't love her. A slow, wicked smile began to curl on his lips. He chuckled lowly. Perhaps that was how he would get her to stay. He could even get her to *love* him… love didn't seem so frightening when he was using it against someone else. If she thought he loved her, she would most definitively choose him over that ancient suitor.   
He leaned back with a complacent sigh. Every soldier needed a plan of attack. Now he had his. He would convince Adriana that he loved her, beyond a shadow of a doubt. And she would play right into his hands and stay with him forever… pride and all. 


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8  
  
*Eh heh… sorryz for the wait guys… really. My account was frozen. It sucked. Here's Adhemar… hehehe*  
  
Adriana awoke the next morning only to be confronted with Donal. He held a tray with an assortment of food on it, steaming and demanding to be eaten. She hadn't had a decent meal in months… Eyeing the food and the servant speculatively, she sat up in bed. Donal simply waited silently, offering no explanation of what was going on or why.   
  
"Is that… for me?" Adriana questioned tentatively, pointing to the tray of breakfast.   
  
"It is, M'Lady," Donal replied curtly.   
  
At this Adriana's eyebrows shot up. Only a week ago he had been shoving her into the barn to sleep, now he addressed her with a formal title? She practically leapt out of the huge bed, storming right over to him and standing mere inches from him. Her head almost came parallel to his neck, but she managed to glare menacingly.   
  
"Now just what is going on here? I demand to know! Where is that cretin you call a lord? Tell me! What kind of game does he think he's playing with me?" she shouted huffily.   
  
She was carrying on with such fervor that she didn't notice the "cretin" was standing in the doorway of her room, laughing at the tantrum, nearly doubled over in fact. Donal simply seemed to regard her outburst with mild interest, after all, he was more used to being dealt a hard punch in the face or stomach when Adhemar was not pleased.   
  
"Now that performance is all the proof I needed to believe you were once a well bred lady of the upper class," Adhemar chided, though Adriana immediately noticed that the tone of his voice had changed subtly.   
  
He no longer sounded malicious when he spoke, but truly playful. It was certainly a side of him she had not seen before.   
  
Quickly banishing her bewilderment, she settled her fiery gaze on Adhemar instead, "You!" she growled lowly.   
  
Adhemar raised an eyebrow, leaning carelessly against the door frame and pointing to himself as if she might have been referring to someone else. Again, this sudden change in attitude made Adriana halt in her advancement upon him. Less than a week ago, he would have threatened her with death or given her a sound thrashing had she spoken to him that way… and now he merely mocked her?  
  
He took the abrupt silence and hesitation in her ranting as his opportunity to interject an explanation, "Your behavior-- until this morning-- has been exceptional, Adriana. I deemed it worthy enough of a few small rewards."   
  
"A few--" Adriana stammered, completely caught off guard by this sudden and unexpected kindness, it almost made her nervous.   
  
And aside from that, he called a luxurious room, a fine silk garment and an opulent breakfast a few small rewards?  
  
Adhemar seemed to take a certain amount of delight in her confusion, "I can be quite generous when the mood arises. But I need cause. I think you'll find that I am a munificent and charitable master when I get what I require of my servants, isn't that right Donal?" he called over his shoulder, never taking his eyes from the shocked girl before him.   
  
"Aye, M'Lord," Donal replied almost immediately.   
  
Adriana got the impression that it would not have mattered what the question had been, because poor Donal didn't have a will of his own anymore. She made a silent vow that such a deprivation would never happen to her, no matter what.   
  
"I will never serve you," she retorted sharply, for lack of anything better to say.   
  
Adhemar seemed remarkably unaffected.   
  
"I beg to differ, Adriana. You're serving me this very moment, simply by being here. Gracing this manor with your beauty, if not your pleasant temperament."  
  
Adriana scoffed at the duel compliment/insult he had dealt her but remained silent otherwise, obviously trying to read into this sudden change in attitude.   
  
Adhemar went on, "You will have free reign of the manor and the gardens should that please you. Donal will serve you for today, until I can make other arrangements"  
  
Again Adriana looked surprised. She was about to comment on his remark concerning what would please her, but a new topic was already being thrown at her, almost as if he was deliberately trying to perplex and baffle her, "A servant for a servant?" she questioned suspiciously.   
  
Adhemar caught her gaze and managed to hold it steadily, something he had trouble with since the first moment they met.   
  
"You are an entirely separate sort of servant, Adriana. One who operates in only the closest circle of tasks laid down by her master."  
  
The girl's cheeks colored with anger in response to that remark, but still she said nothing.   
  
Adhemar's eyes slid complacently from her gaze down her slender throat only stopping at the graceful lines of her feet and ascending once more.   
  
"First and foremost is another bath, I think. A proper one, this time," he added, turning to go.   
  
"Oh, and am I to have an audience again, M'Lord?" Adriana finally countered, hurling the retort at his back.   
  
Adhemar slowly turned and narrowed his eyes in contemplation, "Much as I appreciate the offer, darling, I'm afraid I have other affairs to attend to this morning," and with that, he was gone, leaving Adriana to seethe with rage at his devious twisting of her own words. 


End file.
